Solo dancing

Lately I think I’ve been on a bit of a power trip. There’s something about being in a big city that just invigorates me - and here I go sounding like a coming-of-age movie opener. 

The reality of it is, I really needed to spend more time alone and enjoy moving at my own pace. San Francisco just set the stage for this new era of growth and self-discovery I was about to undergo. 

I began to surprise myself a lot more. I felt more comfortable and in my element, finally feeling like I was really taking charge of my life again. I felt confident, boundless and, most importantly, at peace. Friends would tell me I looked truly happy and seemed more like myself again, and I agreed with them. 

I’ve always found myself to be prone to codependency in relationships. Whenever I’d meet someone I really connected with, I would feel an attachment to them along with the need to invest all of myself into them. I am someone who’s always loved hard, so much so that I would risk losing myself in that person. This wasn’t something I consciously recognized until the start of my 20s. Not only that, but this was also something I realized existed within other people I was close to. I was always fortunate enough to be surrounded by love my whole life. Being that I was always filled with so much love from those around me, I always wanted to pour into someone else’s cup. The problem with that was, when my energy wasn’t always matched, I would find myself with an empty glass - parched for love. 

In assessing my own past and present relationships, I am coming to realize the qualities I truly value in people, allowing me to develop a deeper understanding of the standards by which I allow people into my life. The toughest moments had taught me to value myself more and my naivety started to dissipate. While I’d always tried to see the best in people, I learned that not always do they have the best intentions in mind. 

So I decided that I would stop giving sample spoons of energy to people who wouldn’t stick around for a full serving of my depth.

This new stage of my youth could be best described by my experience going salsa dancing yesterday evening. I’d met up with a good friend of mine/former sorority big sister (yup, little old me was in a sorority for all of about a month and a half) who’d created a tradition with me of going to salsa nights at least once a month. I hadn’t danced since before the pandemic and was craving it for what felt like forever. I got all dolled up and put on a little black dress and heels - all suited up for an evening of dancing with strangers. 

I was so in my element on the floor, moving to the pulse of salsa clásica and letting myself get consumed by the moment. After a while, I noticed people were looking at me. Some people even started cheering me on. I had placed myself in the center of the floor and was my own dance partner, twirling and swaying my hips in a fluid combination that lifted me out of reality and into my own world. I was spilling over with passion and felt so at home in this state of being. 

Throughout the night, several people had gone up to me to propose a dance. I felt like an energy magnet, enticing those around me to join my flow. While I had many great dance partners that night, I definitely had the most fun dancing alone. The confidence of being able to strut straight to the middle of the floor and engulf myself in the heat of the crowd was something I wanted to continue to exude in every facet of my life. My revelation was witnessed by everyone present in the room that night. 

One of the individuals who had approached me that night simply greeted me by bluntly stating, “You are the prettiest girl here, and you know it.” I smiled and thanked him, feeling all the more elated because I truly felt drop-dead gorgeous in my own glow and, apparently, it showed.

Each dance I’d had, I felt I’d stepped more and more into my power. Despite all of life’s chaos and uncertainty, I felt limitless. In that moment, I knew for a fact that no matter what would get thrown in my way, I would be able to handle my own.

I’m ending my internship/new job and starting the first semester of my senior year at UC Berkeley very soon. Lots of transitioning is going to have to happen and I’m ready for it. All it took was tequila and a tradition.

And, in conclusion, that is precisely why I would advise you to dance solo.

Sincerely,

Engima